


More Than Just A Pretty Face

by vulcanhighblood



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galaxy Garrison, Lance being Lance, M/M, Pre-Canon, hunk being hunk, hunk is an adorable nerd, hunk is attractive, i love these adorable nerds, lance is an obnoxious nerd, lance is lance, what am I doing with my life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:12:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about two weeks into your first semester at Galaxy Garrison when he sits down next to you at lunch and introduces himself. “Hi, I'm Hunk! We're in some classes together, and I figured we could get to know each other! Also, maaaaybe we could be study partners?”<br/>He's looking at you expectantly, and you realize you still haven't answered him. “Sure," you say. "I'm Lance, by the way.”<br/>"Nice to meet you!"<br/>Little do you realize the pleasure really <em>is</em> all yours.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Just A Pretty Face

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So, how do you recognize a (not actually) recovering Homestuck writer by their works? They Write Fic In The Second Person Present Tense, Periodically Capitalizing Things That Really Don't Need Capitalization and proceed to act as if these writing styles are totally normal.  
> Anyway...  
> I really enjoyed writing this fic, hopefully yall enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

It's about two weeks into your first semester at Galaxy Garrison when he sits down next to you at lunch and introduces himself. “Hi, I'm Hunk!” he says brightly. “We're in like three of the same classes, I don't know anybody here yet, _you_ don't know anybody here yet, so I figured we could get to know each other! Also, maaaaybe we could be study partners?”

You're instantly suspicious. Everyone in class had taken a review test during the first week of school, and you'd breezed through it. Only one other person, some creep named _Keith_ had finished before you. Instant. Dislike. You hadn't paid much attention, but thinking back, you're preeeetty sure this Hunk guy had been the last student to turn in the answer sheet, and he hadn't even finished the first page.

He was right about one thing though, you _didn't_ know anyone, and honestly, he seemed nice enough. Or well, his face was nice, and honestly having a friend who was easy on the eyes was a good enough reason for you. Besides, even if he _was_ really bad at school, at least he could make you feel better by comparison. And you needed _something_ to boost your ego after losing to that smug Keith guy who had _walked out of class_ like some sort of maverick when he'd finished. Which sucked because _you'd_ wanted to pull the ‘suave maverick’ move and he'd gone and ruined it for you!

Hunk is looking at you expectantly, and you realize you still haven't answered him. What had he been saying? “Sure, I guess,” you say, deciding to play it cool for the moment. “I'm Lance,” you introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you!” Hunk says, beaming.

You feel something _nice_ bloom in your chest, but you do your best to ignore it. You're just a sucker for a look like that is all. Honestly, radiant happiness looks good on _anyone,_ especially this dark-skinned fluffy ray of sunshine sitting next to you and chowing down on whatever they had slipped onto your trays in the lunch line. Chili? Lasagna? Taco salad? It was disturbingly nondescript.

“So,” Hunk says after a moment to fill the silence, “What are you here for?” he asks. “I haven't seen you in any of the shop classes,” he adds.

Ah. A grunt Engineer. No wonder his scores are probably terrible, you think. That's a bit judgemental, if you're being honest with yourself. But you're never honest with yourself, and see no reason to start now. “I’m in the flight school,” you explain. “Best pilot they’ve got, too!”

“Wow, that’s great!” Hunk says.

“Yeah! I could take you out for a ride sometime!” you offer, creatively ignoring the fact that all your professors had drilled into you that the simulators were _not_ toys, and only authorized personnel were allowed inside. _Surely_ students counted as authorized personnel. Even grunts, probably… You realize that Hunk is making a face, like he ate something a bit off. “Yo, you okay man? Is there something wrong with the food?” you examine your plate, you are _not_ going to get food poisoning, at least not until _after_ that Keith guy does.

“Naw man, the food here is great!” Hunk says. He may be overselling it a bit, the food is tolerable at best, but you don’t really care enough to argue the point. “I just...uh… don’t really like flying,” he mutters so quietly that you’re not quite sure you heard him correctly.

“You don’t like flying?” you ask in disbelief. “But… you’re in a _space program_.”

“Why do you think I chose ground support?” Hunk answered. “I like my feet on solid ground is all. G-forces and my stomach do _not_ get along. I learned that the hard way.”

 “What about zero-g?” you try.

“Probably not much better,” Hunk speculates, “Though I’ve never actually been in space. Too many issues with the initial, uh, getting to space part.”

“Dude, simulators exist for a reason,” You tell him.

“I kind of got banned from my previous school’s simulator,” Hunk confesses, glancing sheepishly down at his lap, dark lashes brushing across broad cheeks, “too many, uh, _gastrointestinal_ _malfunctions_.”

You wrinkle your nose slightly. “O-kaay,” you say slowly. “Anyway. You’re an engineer?”

Hunk brightens, looking back up from his lap excitedly. “I’m especially fascinated by cutting-edge light-drives and sustainable propulsion systems. Honestly, the goal is, as always, perpetual motion, and the way science is developing we’re getting closer every day!” Hunk’s eyes are alight with excitement and he leans forward, passion for his work practically oozing from every pore.

“If I knew what half of that meant I’d be excited too,” you say after a moment. “I’m going to assume it makes space travel easier.”

Hunk’s expression dimmed slightly, and you would have given anything to take back the words that had made him hide his excitement. “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty lame,” he said after a moment.

“More like, over my head?” You try. You’re good at physics, math, the basics, but you don’t know how things that fly _work,_ not from the ground up the way this guy seems to. Your studies focus on applying what you’ve learned to ensure yourself and your crew arrive in one piece, but that doesn’t extend to designing systems or making repairs. When it comes to the inner workings of a spacecraft you are woefully inexperienced. “I just don’t know enough about the mechanics of spaceflight to appreciate your interest,” you say, trying your best to bring that smile back.

It works. Hunk grins, scooping a few more bites into his mouth before continuing. “Ah yeah, I guess I’m not all that interested in the actual flying part of spaceflight, so I get where you’re coming from,” he says. “So about that study group…”

You figure out the general details - when, where, what kind of snacks to bring, and then part ways. You spot him in your applied physics class later and give him a smarmy wink.

He _blushes_ and you feel your heart beat a little faster. You tell it to _stop_ , I mean, seriously, you’ve known the guy for a grand total of one hour. Time to slow these engines down. Besides, he might not even be into you, and how lame would it be if you ended up with (yet another) unrequited crush? You do your best not to think about the way his face had blushed at even the slightest compliment you gave him during your conversation at lunch. You also try to stop thinking about his massive shoulders, his broad chest… his _eyes_. God, you are in _so_ _deep_. These study groups are going to be the best worst thing that ever happened to you.

It feels like _hours_ before it’s finally time to meet for your first study session, and you find yourself feeling uncharacteristically nervous. It isn’t a date, you tell yourself. It isn’t a date. It feels like a date.

You stiffen when Hunk comes bursting into the room, wreathed in smiles and bearing an armload of snacks. He proceeds to pile them on the table in the study room that you’d reserved for the next three hours, then plugs his student tablet into the projection system, pulling up the class files for your first shared class before you even have the chance to ask him how his day went. “Okay, so I thought we’d start by reviewing last week before moving into the stuff we’ll be covering this week,” he says, all business from the get-go and if that isn’t the hottest thing you’ve seen in awhile you will eat your gym socks.  

“Oh, okay,” you say weakly, and Hunk _schools_ you. Honestly, you hadn’t really paid attention in class. You already knew a good part of it, and what you didn’t know you could always study on your own. But something about the glow in Hunk’s eyes, the way his voice seems to send shivers from your scalp all the way down to your toes, you can’t bring yourself to tune out completely, the way you usually do in class. Instead, you find yourself taking in every inch of him, the gentle curves of his arms, the way his hands flex and curl when he’s indicating various equations on the projection. You note the slope of his shoulders, the way his hair swings into his eyes and he has to shake his head a little to get it out of the way. You see the softness of his body, not totally able to obscure the bulging muscles in his arms, his chest, his… well. You wonder how much he lifts. Probably a lot, he’s an engineer and lugs heavy equipment around all the time. He could probably lug _you_ around. That thought sends your mind on a bit of a detour and you have to refocus when Hunk asks you a question. He has to repeat the question twice before you’re able to direct your attention from his lips and nose to the actual words he is saying. You keep studying, trying your best not to get distracted again.

Hunk stops and checks every now and then to make sure you’re keeping up, and a few times you actually contribute what you remembered from your own studies or from the actual classroom. Hunk grins, apparently glad to have found a decent-ish study partner.  You’re glad Hunk found you too, and not because he’s an excellent study partner, although that doesn’t hurt.

The three hours fly by, and at the end of it, as you’re packing up what’s left of the snacks, you feel compelled to comment on his spectacular tutoring skills. “Gee Hunk, I wouldn’t have pegged you for more than a pretty face,” you begin, “but you’re really good at this! You could probably teach your _own_ class on this and it would be _way_ more interesting than Professor Chen’s.”

Hunk doesn’t say anything, and when you look up, his face is beet red and he’s standing stock still, clutching a bag of potato chips like it holds the secrets of the universe within its salt-encrusted grease nuggets.  

“What?” you ask, heart dropping into your stomach. Your gut clenches. What did you say? What did you do?

“You think I-I’m pretty?” Hunk whispers, like he’s afraid if he speaks too loudly he’s going to shatter the illusion.

You blink. Oh. **_OH._ ** You feel your own face begin to burn in embarrassment. This is _not_ how you intended the evening to go. What the heck. Might as well go for it. “Yeah,” you say, “I really like your…” you struggle to settle on a single attribute, and finally land on “everything.”

Hunk’s eyes narrow, like he’s not quite sure he believes you, and suddenly you are desperate to prove that you find him really, _really_ attractive because if he thinks you’re making fun of him that would be the literal worst thing.

You try to explain, but once you start talking it’s like someone’s opened the floodgates and everything you noticed at lunch, everything that’s been distracting you for the past three hours comes pouring out of you. “I love your hands, your thick arms, your shoulders, your _face_. You look so soft, it makes me want to wrap my arms around you and just _feel you_. Even so you’re freakin _built_ , you look like you could lift two of me over your head without even breaking a sweat and _honestly_ that is _so sexy_ ,” You stop to catch your breath, and the realization of what you’ve just said comes crashing down on you. “Oh my _god_ ,” your face is on fire, and you turn towards the door, trying to get out before Hunk kicks you out himself. Before you’ve taken even two steps, Hunk swoops in with the _best hug ever oh my god_. His arms are every bit as soft and solid and _real_ as you had hoped and _oh man oh man this is the best study session_ **_ever_** **.**

“You’re pretty great too,” Hunk whispers, and the emotion in his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You don’t get any more studying done that night.

**Author's Note:**

> ....and then they made out until the librarian caught them and chased them back to their rooms. They made sure to "study" in more private locations after that. Hunk still insisted on at least a few hours of actual 'studying', much to Lance's chagrin...  
>  Thanks for reading! :D


End file.
